Death Blossoms for Me and Me Alone
by ItsCamCamx3
Summary: Zacharias Muelbroek, a child born with the world at his fingertips, discovers a secret within him that changes his life as he knows it. For better, or for worse, however, is up to him to decide. Reyes/Reaper x Male OC Fic **On Haitus**
1. Chapter 0: Introduction

Born in the harsh winter of Germany, I was a child that defied the expected from the very beginning. A premature birth with little chance of surviving, yet I made it through the weeks of living in the sterile neonatal intensive care. Growing up, it was like I had been born perfectly healthy; no complications arose as far as I was told or know of.

By the time I was ready to go into schooling around eight years old, I was placed in the most prestigious private institute there was to offer. My parents - my mother and father both highly renowned researchers in the nanobiotic field- spared no expense to allow me to fully explore the world around me. With this opportunity, I soon came to be recognized as the prodigy that was fit to be my parents' son. My instructors, having the ability to become more personally involved in my education, were always looking forward to the work I would present. However, my peers shared the opposite opinion of my teachers. Like being watched over by a mother hawk with her newborn chicks, I was now scrutinized by my peers, who were mostly all strangers, for my every move.

"Did you hear about Zacharias's score on the test? I hear it was perfect."

"Again? I bet the teachers are going to fawn over him in class the whole time…"

"Maybe his parents pay for his scores. He never talks in class so how do we know he's even that smart?"

"Yeah, he never gets called on or volunteers to answer. I think something is going on with him."

Becoming the talk of the somewhat small and exclusive school was not the best for developing any meaningful relationships. Constantly, I was going out of my way to ensure there was as little peer-to-peer interaction within my daily routine. However, this only spurred more scrutiny and jabs at my intelligence and moral credibility. I soon was pulled from the institute, only having spent a short few months there, after several meetings between my teachers and parents for what they described as "what was best for me as a child of my degree."

* * *

I grew up for the rest of my adolescence within the confines of my home. Interactions were rare, besides among servants and in-house instructors; my parents were rarely home due to their professions. My time was often spent learning far more than what was taught traditionally as core subjects: war, pandemics and their effects on society, the evolution of weaponry and artificial intelligence, things that most individuals shouldn't be reading about to pass the time. My parents never seemed worried about my fascinations with subjects like these, and it almost felt like at times they were pushing me towards them.

However, despite all the good I had at my fingertips, a recurring nightmare plagued me once I was roughly 10. Distinctly, and without fail, once a week I would have this dream where I was alone in the pitch black dark. I could not move or feel anything, I simply existed there within the emptiness. As time passed, or so I would believe, eventually there would be this tight, gripping feeling around what I presumed were my ankles and wrists. Panic would surge throughout my body and it would suddenly become damp and slightly brighter, but not enough to make anything out in a short distance. I would remain this way until two silhouettes appeared at the edge of clarity and they would say the same thing before I awoke in a sweat.

"A failure like all the others... Kill it."

My parents, worried about my health, had a psychologist see me for several months before declaring that there were no inner demons that could be slain to alleviate the nightmare. I was prescribed medication, which did not stop the nightmare from happening but numbed the sensations of the dream. I never was able to find out any useful information on the drug, and I never saw the psychologist again. I lived with the diluted dream for several years.

Even though I was prone to that nightmare, my life was a secluded and lush life. Despite all the lengths my parents went to isolate me from the outside world, there was no fully hiding what others my age were doing with their lives. Some were out partying and going places far from home, some beginning to truly understand the broad range of emotions we as humans have, while I was a self-proclaimed prisoner of my own household.

And so, I became rebellious to the pristine life of the prodigy I was proclaimed to be. Nothing utterly drastic like running away or sneaking out for long periods of time, but I went against walking the house at night. I had never really understood the rule, nothing happened at night as far as I knew, but my parents and their aides always insisted I stay in my room during the night. But, as I was no longer liking the way I was living in a constant loop, I snuck out of my room the day I would have the dreaded dream to explore my home in a new light or lack thereof.

I decided if I was going to see something worth the risk of defying my parents for the first time, I would see how the moon's light leaked through the library's grand windows. As I tiptoed my way down the stairs, I could hear what sounded like two of the servants talking in an adjacent hallway. Cautious of being caught, I inched my way forward to try and catch part of their conversation.

"Young master should be asleep by now, no? Should we make our rounds to gather him soon?"

"Ahh, what's it matter if he's a little bit late? I've overheard he hasn't shown any improvement for the past year now."

"I don't think that excuses us from doing our duties if the mister and missus can't accomplish what they planned to do with him soon. I do fret they might end up discarding him like the other subjects, though… I rather liked this one."

"Goddammit, shut up and let's go. I'd rather wrestle the kid than listen to you talk about this sentimental shit any longer."

Hearing one of the servants speak of wrestling me, I stumbled against the wall by mistake, causing a thud to resound throughout the otherwise silent halls. As taken aback as I was to the subject I mischievously wandered into, the two servants rounding the corner were audibly so.

"Young master! You're awake and roaming the halls... Y-you know you shouldn't be doing that your parents are very adamant about staying in your room at night!"

"I'll grab him and you inject him."

With a tackle, the servant latched onto me while the other scrambled to my side, syringe now suddenly in hand. Aiming towards my neck, the other servant began to push the needle forward into my skin, but I resisted and squirmed against the two. I could feel liquid drip down from where the puncture had started and onto my shoulder, a curse muttered under breath before my head was forcibly pushed to the floor. Head against cold marble, I felt the needle jam into my neck and soon after I lost my consciousness.

When I awoke, everything was dark and my head was spinning. As my head began to clear ever so slightly, I came to realize where I was. This was the setting of my nightmare, yet, the constraints and dampness were already present. And as if on cue to this realization, the two silhouettes appeared before me, speaking their one line as they had for years on end.

"A failure like all the others… Kill it."

* * *

In a moment, myself and the world I knew was swallowed by a pitch black, starless night. My body was no more, or so I could tell, and as far as I could sense there was nothing out there in the vast darkness, besides myself. But… am I even here? There is nothing to quantify that I have a physical form in this new realm; no limbs to move or head to turn and no way to justify this lone, gnawing feeling of being the only thing here. All I know is how it felt as reality was devoured whole, taking everything that had ever been and turning it all into nothingness. I was consumed too, then, yes?

Is this what death is? Drifting aimlessly, as I would describe this deprivation of all senses, in a metaphorical sea of nothing. The chance that there would be any rescue, any sliver of land or refugee, from this hell was presumably zero to me. No light at the end of the dark hallway, no faint calling of someone to follow them. Nothing, nothing but what could be conceived as my own thoughts. I was… I am…

 _I am alone here._

A realization as deep as this abyss I was consumed by, a feeling that resided a short step away from my focus, ready to take its part in this tragedy of mine at its cue. No one, possibly not even myself, was a part of this play. Barely the beginning number unfolded before the curtain fell, and everyone and everything was shown the exit. Is this really the end? It can't be…

 _It can't be._

Without warning, I heard it. The beat of what might be a drum. Again, louder, but shorter than before. What is it, what is making that sound? A new sound, no more than one. Distinctly resounding one after another. Three new pitches, five, no even more. They are overlapping. Why am I hearing all this? A more powerful sound. A sharp crack. And another, and another, and another. Shattering. Dull thuds. The drum is picking up speed. I wish it were silent again.

So many voices with muffled words yet clear intents. Cries of pain. Shrieks of fear. Howls of rage. All these raw emotions being conveyed by sound alone. I exist here, enduring it all. The sole listener to this demonic orchestra set to a beat too loud and fast.

And as if on cue, a sudden flare within myself. A sting here, then more like a jab there. I feel as though I am a ragdoll wildly tossed to and fro. Something is trying to hold me now. The smell of cologne and fabric. Prolonged flashes of red and white, some other colors too but just shortly. I am no longer held. So much red. The feeling of being coated with liquid. Wet, clinging to me everywhere. The stench of meat, fresh. Now rotting? I am engulfed by a tidal wave of senses, yet the beat is still resounding. It is all real, is it not? I can't be imagining all this, can I? All to feel something other than the void?

 _Then it was all over._

It was simply over; the drum no longer beating, and I was deprived of my senses again. But I had felt it all - the sounds, the pain, the smells and textures, the rhythmic drumming that paved the way- and I remembered it all… everything was real after all, no? This is not the beginning of an end, but a true beginning. I am alive then, and now this sea I drift in doesn't seem as hopeless. Although it may not be the blindly light and deafening fanfare of a heavenly afterlife, I at least know that there is hope out there. It may be in the immaterial form of screams and pain, but it is out there alongside me.

 _I am not alone here._

* * *

 _Author's Note:_ Um hi again. I'm back and I said I'd be back in December and coincidentally I ended up with this ready on Christmas Day so... Merry Christmas I guess lol?


	2. Chapter 1: Shadows of Ruin

I drifted for what seemed like an eternity atop the darkened sea. Sometimes there would be a ripple of sensations, but none as hectic as the storm that was my first encounter. But as I kept floating here, that encounter became less and less prevalent in my mind. Eventually, I was able to hear the faint beating of the drum again, a slow and steady pace pulsing around me, and I began to forget about that moment. At times it might speed up, but it always returned to the same tempo soon. It was comforting to have a continuous feeling to hold onto here in this deprived existence.

To the sound of the drum, I hoped for the return of my world. Honestly, I'd take it if I just knew what was going on and where I was. Was this death or just an everlasting extension of my nightmare? Was this what it was like to die in a dream, floating with currents of the unconsciousness? The experience was foreign in entirety but somewhat soothing. Although I longed for my return, there was a certain feeling to being one of the only conceivable things in known existence here. But maybe I'm not purely existing here, but living in a new world I haven't fully discovered. What lies in wait upon my voyage's end?

* * *

With that single thought, the space around me became painted with lush greenery. Before me grew triumphant trees that stood the test of time. Solid earth covered in leaves and branches pushed back against my weight. The sounds of insects and creatures accompanied the scene, the smells of fir filling the air. Due to the sudden overload of all my senses, I hunched over the ground and vomited. I coughed and wheezed for a moment after, trying to catch my breath, before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Upon feeling a rough, flaky feeling pass over my mouth did I begin to take notice of what was covering my skin.

Looking down, I discovered that my hand was covered in a dry cake of blood; both my hands were covered in dried blood actually. I examined the rest of me as confused panic began coursing through my veins. My clothes were riddled with tears and holes, as well as soaked in blood. This wasn't my blood, was it? No, there is no way I would have survived such massive blood loss if this was all my blood… Further examining myself, there were no indications that I had been hurt despite my appearance.

As I wondered what exactly had happened, the sun began to break through the leaves of the canopy. What time was it? If it was morning then I'm most likely in the woods surrounding the house and I couldn't have travelled far from home. As I tried to calm and collect myself, I searched for any semblance of steps I had taken to get here. After looking around for several minutes, no clues of a path taken were obvious; no pushed aside foliage or trodden steps. It was almost like I had just appeared here.

"Dammit, think, think! No time for silly thoughts about teleportation." I said to myself as I began pacing around the clearing I was in. "Heading towards the sun will mean I'm going east, assuming it just rose. If I remember correctly, somewhat east of the house is a lake so if I hit that before the house I can probably find my way back from there!"

Upon reaching a sound course of action, I began setting off towards the east. Past the clearing I was in, the woods became slightly denser, but still manageable to get through. A few times I did snag a branch here and there, possibly cutting myself but I was too dead set on getting back home. I had to ignore everything and get home.

 _I just want to go home._

Trudging through the woods, the sun rose above into the sky, the light peaking through the leaves changing angle ever so slightly as I trekked on. Once the sun reached the middle of its daily path, I emerged from the woods unto the lake. The water glistened with the sun's rays, ripples weakly gracing the body's surface. I made my way down to the edge of the water, dunked my hands in, and watched as the cold water became stained with red. Truly, whose blood was this, and what caused it to be on my hands and clothes?

I shook my head and splashed my face with water. There was no reason to try and answer the unknown without anything to go off of; too much that has happened in such a short time that is beyond understanding to sit and ponder about the fine details. As I opened my eyes, in the water's reflection stared back nothing but darkness. Taken aback, the shadowy figure moved with me, a swirling fog dancing around its body. My body.

Jumping up from the lakeside, I turned and ran as fast as I could. Pure fear and adrenaline pumping through me, I took towards the way I thought would bring me home. No more of this incomprehensible nonsense, no more thoughts of emptiness and solidarity existence. I just want to go home, back to a sanctuary of peace and understanding.

 _But there is no home._

When my body caught up with my actions, exhaustion beginning to kick in, the sun had made its way to backdrop the sight before me. Ruins of what once was a home, a temple of life and their livelihood. Walls lingered on the edge of collapsing, some already given way to the destruction they had witnessed. Chunks of masonry and shards of glass littered the shadows of devastation. My home had become nothing more than a wreck of its former self.

Tears began to flow as I took stammered steps towards my home. Questions raced through my mind as I got closer and closer. What led to this happening? Why did any of this happen at all? Did I escape from this in a blinding panic, making it so I didn't remember how I ended up in the woods? Who did this?

* * *

At the thought of who, an intense wave of nausea overcame me. My sight blackened, contracting before opening again unto a scene I had partaken in seeing hundreds of times. Before me, the silhouettes of my nightmare stood.

"A failure like all the others… Kill it."

"NO!" a voice of anguish boomed from within me. The figures before me staggered back in response as if they heard it too. "I will not be disposed of like a child's plaything!" the voice roared out, its volume deeply resounding. My body began moving on its own, forcefully fighting against the restraints that held me in place.

"Now! Do it now!" one of the figures cried out before the clatter of metal rang out. The restraints had been broken so easily and I was free. I felt as if I was thrown forward without control of my body as I lunged towards the figures. Suddenly, lights illuminated the space, blindingly so, and I could feel fiery pain spread through my body. The voice yelled in anger, the very room shaking at the sheer intensity before the lights shattered. Glass rained down as I was now atop one of the figures, their face now clearly visible even the darkness.

My father was beneath me, his face twisted in both fear and confusion. I had no words to describe the mixture of emotions that welled within me. Father had been one of the silhouettes in my nightmare, one of the people to order to kill me for being a failure. "I have not failed, you have." the voice said, a mocking inflection twisted in every word.

Screams began to ring out as I felt my hands plunge downwards, a wet and slimy sensation engulfing them. And then again, and again, and again. Looking down, I realized that I had stabbed my hands into my father's torso, blood spewing from the holes I had made. His eyes had rolled back already, his face now contorted with pain and seemingly more pale. I could feel a rush of invigoration as I sat there, my hands resting in the flesh of a man.

A gunshot filled the air, followed by more. I could feel the collision of the bullet with my body, but no pain followed after. Another shot, and then several more; still no pain from any. The screaming hadn't stopped, and there was now a faint muttering from what sounded like a woman next to me. Was that my mother? Had she been the other silhouette? Had my own family intended to kill me?

"...A monster we can't control… We created a monster we can't control… A monster… A monster…"

Everything after began to blur together as I moved swiftly, red painting my vision in bloody fashion. It was so hard to comprehend what I was doing, but I felt empowered and relentless to the point of being numb to all other emotions. Sounds of destruction, suffering, and laughter were all I could hear before the scene I had somehow stepped into dissipated.

 _I destroyed my home._

* * *

The ruins of my home again stood before me, but now stood a figure among the shadows. They turned to me as I vomited onto the ground again, the disgust and confusion from the vision overtaking me completely. As I fell to my knees from the violent fit of sickness, soft footsteps approached me before stopping in front of me.

"It was fun, wasn't it? Doing all that killing, destroying the place that used you like a lab rat." the figure said to me. I looked to them in surprise; the voice was the one from before. However, what I saw was far more bastardly than what had caused all this ruin. Before me stood myself, layered in an almost aura-like black fog just like I had seen back at the lake.

"I don't… I don't get it. W-Who the fuck are you?!" I shouted, stammering through my words. This was all too much to comprehend and none of it makes logical sense. I don't, I just don't get it.

"Hmph, I see you know nothing. Not surprising though, but, I'm gonna try my best to keep it short. You. Are. A. Weapon." the doppelganger said, articulating each syllable in an insulting slow fashion. "And I'm gonna take over your body now and do my job: destroy the world!"

 _What have I become…?_

* * *

 _Author's Note:_ Hi again. Here's another chapter :) Also uh, as a warning I guess, this story is a slow burn this time around. If you read the previous version of the story, it was really blatant I wanted Zach to bone Reyes and maybe two chapters into them meeting I was starting to make Reyes want to bone Zach too so umm, let's not have that happen again. Next chapter should introduce Overwatch if I play my cards right with creative decisions, but no promises.

OH and I am trying this new style of writing around a four sentence small poem-esque excerpt. Is it good? I don't know personally but it helps me keep somewhat on track to what I want to write about for the chapter. If it's really strange or off-putting let me know and I can mess around with the concept more. Don't be afraid to critic the writing if something is wrong! I love (good and meaningful) critics!


	3. Chapter 2: Revelations of the Damned

" **You**. **Are**. **A**. **Weapon** … **destroy the world**!"

Words I would never have expected to hear be spoken to me, let alone by some figure who looked just like me. There was no emotion to truly describe how I felt as the combined weight of those words hit me like a freight train. I just... felt empty. Everything that had been laid in preparation for a successful future was all a lie? What had exactly been the purpose of allowing me to grow up, to think and act within a life created for me if only to throw it all away? And for what? Some cliche evil plot? Had I even had a real childhood or was that fabricated too?

"I do not believe you," I said, my voice low but adamant. I looked at the shadowy reflection before me, and he looked back at me, eyes filled with amusement. He seemed to be pondering what to say next, but he simply shrugged.

" **Doesn't matter if you believe me or not** ; **I'm just the messenger** **after all** ," he said, waving his hands around before turning back towards the rubble behind him, pointing to the mess. " **If you want a second opinion** , **there's someone here that could give you one**!" he said, beginning to laugh before dissipating into a black fog, disappearing into the ruins. I faltered for a moment, wary on whether to follow or not. Everything since I'd regained consciousness had felt like a dream, and did I want to trust something that may be pure hallucination?

I stood up without realizing, beginning to walk towards what was once my home. I didn't feel in control again, and I began to fight back against my own body. I struggled within myself, screaming and pushing against the steps I took, and at times my body began to lose balance before regaining composure. My endeavors end with no fruition, and I meticulously made my way through the debris as if some unknown force was pulling me towards it.

The sun had begun to set as I discovered who the figure had spoken of. Blood stains and grime covering her body, my mother lied there surrounded by the rubble, shallow breaths the only sign that she was still alive. I stumbled before her, landing awkwardly atop the remnants of a wall. Her breath hitched and her eyes opened with alarm, head snapping in various directions before finally fixating on me. She stared at me, pupils dilating as her lip quivered.

"Get away from me! Get away from me you fuc-" she began to scream before being overcome by violent coughs. I reach out to her, worried, but she raised her arm weakly to stop my advance. "Don't… Don't touch me…" she said, blood trickling from her mouth.

"Mother, please… You are badly hurt..." I begged, my hand trying again to comfort her. Again, she blocked me with her arm, staring back at me with a fierceness I would have never expected from her. A mixture of hate and fear radiated from her being, and it was all directed at me.

"You don't… You don't remember anything, do you? This is all your d-do-" she began to say, coughs interrupting her mid-sentence. Shakily she tried to steady her breathing, but it was apparent she was on her last few. Blood was beginning to drip and bubble from her mouth with every exhale, her body writhing in pain and eyes closed tight. "Ju-Just kill me… already… Sto-stop watching me suffer." she barely said between gasps, laying her head back down on the ground.

Tears had already started flowing, and I shook my head hard. "I cannot kill you, I cannot! I will not!" I whispered, my hands curled into fists. I smacked the stone beneath me and watched as it cracked, pieces flying off from the sheer force. "You have to tell me what is going on! I do not understand anyone of it! Mom please, tell me what is going on!" I said, my desperation manifesting as my pitch went higher and a thin layer of dark fog began to linger in the air.

My mother opened her eyes slightly, looking to the now fading sunlit sky. She coughed once, twice, before lifting her head to me and managing one last, almost inaudible sentence.

"You are a monster and a mistake."

* * *

Her head fell to the ground, bouncing as it collided, and laid motionless there, blood leaking from her parted lips. The rise and fall of her chest came to a halt, the fog beginning to thicken around her as she grew limp. I screamed in anguish, night consuming the sun, and darkness blanketing the world around me.

 _Darkened skies and stormy seas of blood,_

My fists slammed into the rubble beneath me, shattering it completely but I was not satisfied by its futile resistance. I brought my hands down again, and again until I broke through into the solid earth below. The fog around me had become thick and intoxicating, but I didn't care to understand why. I felt… insulted, angry, empty. I was a monster? A mistake?

" **A mistake**? **Don't make me laugh**!" I said, voice distorting and becoming almost otherworldly. " **The only mistake here is everything you meant to achieve**!" The earth had had enough of my assault and caved in, my body landing roughly onto hidden concrete. I smashed into the slab, opening a hole into a room that had been ravaged by conflict. The smell of rotting flesh punctured the air, bodies in varying states of decomposition littered the space. Black fog cascaded through the new passageway before splitting off towards each body. As the fog swirled about the corpses, I descended into the room, empowered by my storm of emotions.

I scanned the room, taking in all that it had to offer in its destroyed state despite the darkness. Various machines and instruments that had all been broken beyond recognition, files and books were thrown about and in ruin. A shattered window looking into a room with an adjacent to a door leading inwards caught my attention. I walked towards the broken glass barrier before noticing what was inside. Within was a table with broken restraints, angled in a way to have the restrained hanging upright. The body of my father was lying nearby, large twin holes carved haphazardly into his chest, and in a horrendous state of decay.

At the sight of my father, I lost control. My own parents, if I could still call them that, had tried to kill me. Deemed me a failure not worthy of continuing on with whatever they aimed to accomplish. They had tried to play God and had not seen what they had created had surpassed their own limits. The black fog that had been attending to the dead circled around me like a twister, making the air tense and heavy. For the second time, I witnessed the world around become swallowed by darkness and I was swept away by the empty sea.

* * *

 _The damned souls sailed cursed waters_

Waves crashed against each other with unreasonable force. I submerged and reemerged at their mercy, a catastrophic storm raging overhead. The winds split the water while rubble and bodies swirled about the eye of the storm. I felt destruction and death with every crack of thunder, every lightning bolt that rang out my frustration with brilliant illuminance.

Sensations came and went with violent proportions. Their timings were sporadic, durations unpredictable in length. The beating of the drum was there, but it was always offbeat and labored sounding.

I could hear the faint chanting of demon-like voices, recounting the words of those who had wronged me even through the disaster's volume.

"Perfect… Snob…!"

"Failure… Failure…!"

"Get… Away…!"

"Monster…! Mistake…!"

With every word I could feel the storm become stronger, the waves clashes become fiercer. I was tired of all the nonsense. Nothing was what it seemed, nothing was what it would be, nothing was what it ever was. The whole of my life, a lie, and I still know nothing of what it truly is purposed for. I just want to disappear forever within this storm.

"You. Are. A. Weapon." called out a voice - my own voice- over all other sounds. He was right, or was I right? Ah, it doesn't really matter, does it? I am a weapon, of what who cares. Birthed to destroy, that is what I will do. I accept my purpose to destroy and kill if that is what I must do.

 _With prospects of freedom and retribution,_

The eye of the storm engulfed me, and within a calm was overbearingly present. It felt almost like a home, and place of comfort and understanding, but there was an element missing that made the atmosphere unsettling. A small breakfast table and chairs floated within the space, the shadowy figure sipping tea and reading a newspaper on one side. He looked up from his reading to notice me and motioned with his eyes to sit down.

I sat across from who I now assume was my inner self. The true me, the weapon that I was, physically manifested in such an uncannily identical fashion. It was hard to comprehend, but why wouldn't the inner demon of myself look like me?

" **Can you, for just one moment, not overthink everything**?" my inner self asked, annoyance present in his tone. " **It's really annoying since I have to listen to it too**."

"You can hear everything I think?" I replied. "I guess that should be how it is since you are… me right?"

" **Wow, good job finally catching up on the times, kid**. **While you're having all these epiphanies** , **read this article on us** ," he said before throwing the newspaper in my face. Giggling as I grabbed the paper off my face, I turned it over to read the article in question. In bold, black letters the title read _International Panic as Death Count Rises from Unknown Serial Mass Murderer_.

"What… What is this?" I stammered out, my eyes rushing through the content of the article. Origins of murders in Germany, mass destruction and casualties in several adjacent countries, continued occurrences throughout the globe. "This is about 'us'? You are killing innocent people?"

" **You are killing innocent people**?" my other self mocked. " **Reminder** : **we're the same person** , **so** **you're doing this**." my other self said seriously, pointing at me with his teacup before setting it down on the table. " **You don't get off scot-free just 'cause you think you're the goody-two-shoes side**. **There ain't no two sides to this** **whole thing** , **it's all one side**."

 _To only discover the monsters they had become._

That's when it hit me, the missing element to this place: mutuality. This wasn't my home, it was his, one built on death and destruction. "You think this is what I wanted to be?! What I wanted to do with my life?!" I yelled, hands connecting with the table with enough to knock the teacup over. Its content spilled over the table and over the edge, descending into the waters below. The waters stained with darkness changed to red in an instant. "This whole storm, all the killing and devastation… It is all your doing, not mine! I never would hurt anyone!"

My other self didn't look at me as I yelled at him, instead choosing to watch the red sea below. He turned his head to look out over the storm that bellowed outside, and I followed suit. As if fueled by our conflict, the storm had become exponentially more chaotic. The bodies, the rubble, everything out there was because of him. Countless innocent people had died to his hands, and yet he was just sitting here, no remorse or…

" **God shut the fuck up already**! **I'm tired of your ramblings**!" he proclaimed before moving over the table to grab me by the throat. " **If you're not gonna do what you're meant to do, then fucking die like everyone else**." I tried to fight back, but it was no use; this was his domain, not mine. In a flash, I was thrown back into the rough waters below, the waters rushing to meet and consume me. I didn't resurface like before, and I could not fight the strength of the currents. I descended deeper into the red sea, struggling to maintain myself. I felt my mind fade as I continued falling, and eventually, everything faded and only one thing remained.

"A failure like all the others… Kill it."

* * *

 _Author's Note:_ Hello, another day another chapter I guess. Next chapter Overwatch, promise, actual promise this time.


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